


A Place For Cake

by jenna221b



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Banter, Cake, Episode: s04e02 The Lying Detective, F/F, Flirting, Is it a date boys? use your heads you're almost there, M/M, Missing Scene, Sherlock Holmes's Birthday, some light after all that heartbreak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 12:37:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9272132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenna221b/pseuds/jenna221b
Summary: Sherlock laughs- a proper belly laugh- and there comes that swoop in John’s stomach. It’s Sherlock Holmes’ bloody birthday and he deserves to laugh like that, today of all days, and every day from now on.





	

“Red velvet?”

John smiles as Sherlock blinks at him in confusion. “What?”

John shrugs. “I just never took you to be a red velvet type of guy. More…chocolate. Or something.”

He doubts Sherlock has even listened to him properly as he’s currently shoveling a frankly impossible amount of cake onto his fork. “Hmm… well, it’s sweet.”

“Ah, so you go for cakes that you’ve got something in common with.”

It’s out before John can stop himself, and it’s _mortifying_ , pure high school levels of appalling and Sherlock- Sherlock’s cheeks are pink. Well, then. 

Sherlock swallows his cake. He looks rather delighted, and grins-well- _coyly_ for the lack of a better word. “I’d like it to be my birthday every day.”

John snorts. “That sort of defeats the point.”

“Well, you’re saying such nice things!”

Sherlock winks, and John’s stomach flips over in a rush of hope, something he’s not truly felt for years, not since that first night at the Chinese. _There’s nothing new under the sun._  

“I’m just popping to the loo,” Molly says faintly, and she heads off. Truth be told, John had temporarily forgotten it wasn’t just him and Sherlock here.

Sherlock watches her go. John considers him.

“You’re worried.”

Sherlock hums in affirmation. “She looks- tired. Unusually so.”

“You think, there’s something-”

“Could be something. Could be nothing. However, balance of probability says there’s always a something.” Sherlock sighs. “Now’s not the right time to- _I’m_ tired.”

John is caught off guard at the admission. He reaches forward- he doesn’t know what exactly he’s planning on- but just to let Sherlock know he’s here. Their feet are almost touching under the table. John has realised this for the past seven minutes.

Sherlock suddenly brightens. “Anyway, no worries in the present: Molly Hooper has a date.”

John frowns, chewing on his carrot cake. “Does she?”

Sherlock tuts, but it’s so obviously fond, and John almost thinks of hiding his telltale smile behind his hand, but he simply lets it show.

“Oh, come on, John, she’s been glancing at the time on her phone practically the entire time she’s been sat here, she’s barely been following the conversation, that’s the third ‘loo break’ she’s had in five minutes- and no, she doesn’t have bladder problems-”

John chuckles. “I wasn’t think-”

“-and each time she’s gone to the toilet, she’s taken her phone with her. Clearly wanting to contact someone she’d rather we not overhear. The only thing we’ve arranged with her is this cake place, so clearly she’s forgotten she had another more pressing engagement, and we’ve been double booked, so-”

The door to the café opens, and Sherlock turns round expectantly. He indicates their table to the customer with a graceful hand gesture. “Hello, Stella.”

And yes, it is her, D.I Stella Hopkins. As John motions to shake her hand, she waves him off. “Don’t be silly, John, I’m off duty.” She stays standing, and jokingly leans on Sherlock’s head with her elbow. “Happy Birthday, mister. You kept that one quiet.”

“She’s still in the loo.”

“Oh, she’ll be out soon, I just texted her to say I’ve arrived. She’s some woman, that Hooper, that’s the second time I’ve accidentally been double booked.” She regards John and Sherlock with a grin. “Well, at least you two aren’t corpses.”

Sherlock laughs- a proper belly laugh- and there comes that swoop in John’s stomach. It’s Sherlock Holmes’ bloody birthday and he deserves to laugh like that, today of all days, and every day from now on.

“She double booked you with a session at the mortuary?” John says.

“Tough competition.” Wonderful giggles are still bubbling up through Sherlock’s voice.

Stella rolls her eyes, and sticks out her tongue at them. “I’m hopefully a much more lively date- oh, _hello_ , you!”

Molly has returned, biting her lip nervously. “H-hey Stella, oh God, I’m sorry about the mix-up, I’d forget my own head if it wasn’t…John, Sherlock, is it okay-”

John smiles. “Of course, Molly. Have fun.”

Sherlock glances at him, eyes sparkling with mirth, but he doesn’t say anything to him. “Um, yeah. Enjoy. Molly. Stella.”

“Oh, you boys are stars,” Molly says, and Stella opens the door for her, and they leave arm in arm.

“What were you looking at me like that for?”

Sherlock laughs again. “You sounded like their bloody _father_ or something. Have fun, don’t stay out too late, I’ve left the key under the mat-”

“Oi. Behave.”

They’ve finished their cake, and John stretches and stands. Sherlock copies him, but with some hesitancy. “Um- well, obviously, Molly’s slot is still… you’re doing hers which isn’t fair, I’ll be fine for a half hour, I can watch something with Mrs Hu-”

John tries not to let his disbelief show. “Sherlock. It’s your birthday. I’m not ‘filling in a slot’, I’m. Christ. It’s _your_ day. Let’s go for a walk or something. Whatever you want to do.”

Sherlock blinks. And blinks again. Blink. Blink. “O-oh. Okay. That sounds- good. I’ll just-” He makes to take out his wallet, but John touches his arm to stop him.

“Sherlock, it’s your birthday. Bill’s already been sorted. My treat.”

And it could be the sunlight streaming through the windows, or it could be another blush staining Sherlock’s cheeks. “Well. Um. That’s. Thank you, John. It’s more than I-”

It’s John turn to tut. “No, it isn’t.”

Sherlock fishes out his Oyster card. “Kensington Gardens?”

John smiles. “Great.”

When leaving, Sherlock stumbles just a tiniest bit on the kerb. John steadies him by hooking one arm through Sherlock’s, and it’s the easiest thing in the world. They walk arm in arm, Sherlock deducing the sensational stories of passers-by, and John thinks _This, this could be. A big Something._


End file.
